A Guiding Darkness
by MagnaVictoria
Summary: Boredom can actually make people do very weird things, really. After who knows how long of feeling so numb, waking up as Tom Riddle is going to change things. Fate really does have a weird sense of humor. Harry reincarnated as Tom Riddle, Dark Lord Harry
1. Chapter 1

_**AN: Aha! I finally managed to write this out without feeling like I was making a huge mistake with it. **_

_**Title: A Guiding Darkness  
Pairing: No main pairing  
Summary: Boredom can actually make people do very weird things, really. After who knows how long of feeling so numb, waking up as Tom Riddle is going to change things. Fate really does have a weird sense of humor. Harry reincarnated as Tom Riddle, Dark Lord Harry  
Warning: Reincarnation, Death, Torture, Dark!Harry, Powerful!Harry, Harry is Tom, mentions of sexual situations, implied slash and het, Dark Lord Harry  
Rating: T**_

_**Disclaimer: Not Mine. Weird, this is the only story for which I remembered to put a disclaimer...**_

* * *

"Tom... Tom Marvolo Riddle..."

_What's that?_

"Tom... After his father..."

_I've been born again._

"And.. Marvolo after his grandfather..."

_Who am I now?_

"Tom Marvolo Riddle..."

_Tom... Riddle? Wait. I know that name..._

"Please... Take care of him..."

_No way..._

"For me..."

_I'm Riddle!?_

"Please..."

_I'm Lord-fucking-Voldemort!?_

* * *

Mrs. Cole was a stern woman. She was the matron of Wool's orphanage, an ordinary orphanage with ordinary children. There were quite a lot of children in the orphanage, most of them only stayed for a few years before getting adopted though. The adoption rate was quite high and many children were able to find a stable home quickly. However, not all of the children were that lucky and the ones that stayed for the longest often thought highly of themselves, becoming tyrants or bullies. Mrs. Cole was not one to tolerate these kind of children and made sure to stamp out this kind of behavior quickly. She didn't tolerate hostile and arrogant children in her orphanage and never would.

And that's why she always kept a look out for this one child: Tom Riddle.

Tom Marvolo Riddle had been in the orphanage all his life. In fact, he was the only child to have been born here.

Tom was a genius, the cleverest child she had ever seen. When he was young, he wasn't like the other children. He never made a fuss and rarely cried as a baby. When he was old enough, he began to help with the chores, always working hard and smiling. The adults all adored him. However, the children easily got jealous and poor Tom became the victim of bullying. Fortunately, Tom always seemed able of defending himself or getting away rather easily. Unfortunately, as time went on, Tom became more and more aloof. He would spend his time staring out of the window with a conflicted expression on his face. When anyone would attempt to bully him, they always ended up being the ones running for cover. Despite still being polite to the adults, Tom became cold and detached as well. And his behavior worried Mrs. Cole.

What was making him behave this way? Why did he change? She had so many questions, but her way of scolding Tom, trying to get him to open up only pushed him away. The older children began calling him names, behind his back, of course and the staff began to worry when everyone who had thought of adopting him changed their minds and expressed fear or disgust to the very idea.

There was still one small saving grace that connected the new Tom with the old Tom though. It was the way he treated the younger and newer children. They all seemed to adore him, look up to him, be set on pleasing him. Tom would often humor them, play with them, and they grew to have a sort of hero-worship towards the young boy. Tom was, indeed, a very charming boy.

"Tom?" Mrs. Cole asked, raising an eyebrow at the eccentrically dressed man sitting in front of her. "You're here to offer him a place at your school?"

"That's correct, Mrs. Cole," the man - Dumbledore or something - replied.

"What school's this, then?"

"It's called Hogwarts."

"And... Why is it Tom that you're interested in then?"

"I believe he has the qualities that we're looking for."

"A scholarship? How come? He's never entered in one before..." the teacher opened his mouth to speak, but Mrs. Cole carried on before he could. "Then again, I can understand why you'd be interested in him. Tom is such a sweet boy, after all. Hard working, eager to help, all the younger kids love him. Not only that, but he's a genius. the cleverest boy I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. Very polite and charming, too. He never gives us any trouble, no."

"Is that so? Can you tell me a bit more about Mr. Riddle then? His history and how he came to the orphanage? I do believe he was born here."

"Oh yes," Mrs. Cole leveled a suspicious look at the Professor. "I remember the day Tom was born as if it were yesterday. It was New Year's Eve and a girl who couldn't have been much older than I was at the time came staggering in. It was a nasty night, snowing and deathly cold. We took her in, of course, but she died not longer after she had the baby."

"Did she say anything before she died? About the boy's father perhaps?" The professor pressed for details.

"Well," Mrs. Cole narrowed her eyes, "She said that she hoped he looked like his father. She was right to hope. I won't lie, she wasn't a very pretty thing. But Tom, Tom grew up to be a very charming young man. He was named Tom after his father, apparently, and Marvolo after his grandfather. An... unusual name, but that's the only unusual thing about him."

"Oh? Nothing unusual happened while he was here?"

"No, of course not! Unless you mean the boy's intelligence; he's an absolute prodigy at everything he does!" Mrs. Cole boasted.

"Great! So, can you take me to see young Tom, now?"

"Of course, come with me." Mrs. Cole stood up, the oddly dressed professor standing, too. She took the professor out from her office and up the stone stairs, yelling out instructions and admonishments towards children and helpers they passed. Eventually, they stopped at a door and Mrs. Cole knocked on the door and entered, but the room turned out to be empty. "Oh. He must be in the library then..." she muttered turning back and leading the professor down the hall. Opening the door at the very end, she went inside to see a group of young children sitting around a chair in the center of the room. They were surrounded by dull bookcases and a young boy was perched on the chair, reading out loud to the children. "Tom," Mrs. Cole called, making all the children look up at her, "You have a visitor. Professor Dumbledore is here to talk to you."

"Oh?" Tom raised an eyebrow and his gaze flickered from Mrs. Cole to the professor. "I'll be right over." The children 'aw'ed in sync as Tom put down the book and gave them a small smile. "Don't worry. I'll keep reading to you once I'm done, okay?" The children immediately nodded and Tom's smile disappeared as he walked over towards the two adults.

* * *

Dumbledore wasn't sure what to think of young Tom Marvolo Riddle. being the only wizard in a muggle orphanage, odd things should have happened around him that he couldn't explain. So, naturally, Dumbledore was confused when the matron said nothing unusual had happened around Tom. He was also curious about the young wizard. From what he had been told by the matron, Tom was like the perfect little angel, a genius, good at everything he does. The child was too perfect to be real.

He entered the room, following Tom, and watched as Tom walked over to his bed, sitting down gracefully, a polite smile on his face. "What can I do for you, professor?"

"Well, Tom," he began, smiling and twinkling at the young boy, "I'm here to introduce you to our school, Hogwarts."

Tom raised an eyebrow at him. "And what makes you think I want to be... introduced?"

Dumbledore smiled wider. "Our school is a very unique school, you see. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is a place for children like you. Those that can do magic."

"Magic?" came the skeptical reply.

"Yes, magic. You're a wizard, Tom."

Tom's face twitched as if he was trying hard to suppress a laugh or smirk. His eyes gleamed with what seemed to be unnerved amusement before they cleared of all emotion again. "Really. And you are one, too?" He seemed to be bored as he sat, relaxed, on the bed.

"Yes."

"Prove it."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows at the demanding words. "If, as I take it, you are accepting your place at-"

"Yes, yes I am," Tom said impatiently, waving a hand for Dumbledore to get on with it.

Dumbledore nodded. "Very well. You should address me as 'Professor' or 'Sir' then, if that is the case."

Tom gave a half-smile, almost mocking in nature. "Of course, Professor Dumbledore. Can you prove that you're a wizard then, sir?"

Dumbledore gave a small nod and a beaming smile before taking out his wand and flicking it to levitate Tom's bed. Tom jolted with surprise, emotions flickering through his eyes too fast to read. "Er... Can you put me down now, sir?" Dumbledore did as told. Too his surprise though, there was no awe or shock in Tom's gaze when he looked back at the professor. Maybe a little amusement though. "So... Where do I go get school supplies, supposing that I'll need things like that...?"

"In Diagon Alley. I have a list of school supplies and books with me and can help you find everything you need. The school also has a fund for orphans, so there is no need to worry about money." Dumbledore took out a bag of money and held it out to Tom.

"Sir, there is no need for you to accompany me. I am perfectly fine in doing everything myself. Can you tell me how to get to Diagon Alley, sir?" Tom smiled disarmingly and took the bag with a gracious nod.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." Tom smiled again and listened carefully as Dumbledore told him how to get into Diagon Alley.

"Any other details are in the envelope," Dumbledore added, handing Tom an envelope, "There is also a ticket for the train to Hogwarts in there."

"Thank you, sir," Tom said, taking the envelope and opening it with curiosity.

"I must go now, Tom," the professor muttered, standing and stretching out a hand for Tom to shake. "I can't wait to see you at Hogwarts, Tom." Tom dropped his letter to shake hands with Dumbledore.

"And I you, sir."

Dumbledore took another curious look at the boy and gauged his magical potential. It was rather ordinary. All in all, Tom Riddle seemed to be the ordinary muggle-born student if it weren't for two things: his lack of awe, and his stunning appearance that could rival a veela's in beauty. "See you soon," he said, letting go of the hand and watching the polite smile bloom on that face, the face with unearthly beauty. And with a last nod, he left.

* * *

Abraxas Malfoy was excited. Why? Because today was the day he was going to go to Diagon Alley for his school supplies for his first year at Hogwarts. Of course, he kept a calm, dignified composure and kept himself from showing his excitement on his face. He wouldn't be caught dead bouncing around like some commoner. He was a Malfoy and Malfoys were above that.

He felt his chest swell with pride as he and his family walked down the street. The people gawked and parted for them, knowing very well that they were Malfoys. After all, Malfoys were known for their beauty, power and prestige. Abraxas knew that he was just as stunning as all the other Malfoys. Platinum blonde hair and grey eyes, the symbol of being a Malfoy. People often wondered if they had veela blood in them, but, that wasn't true. It was just their natural beauty.

"Abraxas, dear. We'll go and get your books and potion supplies. Why don't you go off and get your robes, wand and anything else you'll need for school?" his mother asked, turning to face him.

"Of course, mother."

"You have two hours to explore, Abraxas. Be sure to be back at the Leaky Cauldron by then," his father added, giving him a pouch of money. The pouch was, of course, magical and linked to his personal vault so that he could shop to his heart's desire. Abraxas smiled and left for Olivander's as his parents went off towards the bookstore.

When he got there, he realized that that was already someone inside that Olivander was catering to. He pushed the door open and went in, hearing the bell chime.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy," came the voice of the wand maker. Abraxas looked up to see him put a wand into the hands of the other customer before quickly snatching it away again. To his ire, the boy didn't even look up at him. "Just a moment. Let me finish finding the perfect wand for Mr. Riddle here."

Riddle? Abraxas sneered at the name. That boy must be a mudblood then since there wasn't a pureblood family with the name Riddle. No wonder the boy hadn't looked up at hearing his name. Apparently, the boy seemed to notice Abraxas' hostility because he suddenly spoke.

"Mr. Olivander, I tire of this. Just give me the Yew and Phoenix Feather wand, 13 and a half inches. I do believe that the feather was given by a phoenix called Fawkes."

Both Olivander and Abraxas blinked, surprised, before Olivander complied with the order, for that was what it was, an order. Riddle took the wand and gave it a wave, conjuring a snake before banishing it without a word. Abraxas gaped at the display of magical prowess while Olivander just smiled. "Ah yes, that seems to be the wand for you. You will do-"

"Great things... I know," Riddle replied, making Olivander beam at him. This snapped Abraxas out of his stupor and his closed his mouth quickly.

"I wish you luck on your chosen path this time. It's very different from what you've chosen before..." Olivander said cryptically. Riddle just turned away, now facing Abraxas. Abraxas took one look at Riddle and couldn't help but gape again. Riddle... was stunning and Abraxas couldn't help but feel that Riddle's beauty far surpassed his own. The boy had an unearthly beauty to him with his dark locks and green eyes. His robes, Abraxas now realized, were made of the finest materials.

As Riddle walked past him, he paused and looked up before giving a smirk. "Close your mouth, Bad Faith, or you'll be adding flies to your diet." With that, Riddle walked out.

Abraxas felt his cheeks heating up and he snapped his mouth shut, fuming. Bad Faith? How dare that mudblood...

He could barely hear what Olivander was saying as he was paired with a wand. He could only think of getting that mudblood back for his attitude. "Elm, 18 inches, Dragon Heartstring, Mr. Malfoy. That'll be eight Galleons" Abraxas nodded towards Olivander and payed before walking outside, his good mood ruined by that arrogant little mudblood. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down, and walked towards Magical Menagerie to find the perfect pet.

He pushed open the door and immediately went to the owl section. Owl's were always very useful, after all. He frowned, expecting the shop assistant or owner to come running over to cater to him. He was a Malfoy after all. Looking up, he suddenly realized why no one had payed any attention to him. The staff were trying, futilely, to convince a six foot snake to get off the mudblood boy from before.

He smirked cruelly. Served that mudblood right.

However, when Riddle turned so that Abraxas could see his face, he realized that Riddle's face was the embodiment of calmness with, perhaps, a hint of exasperation. He didn't seem to mind the six foot snake at all. "I'm fine. There's no need to fuss. I think she likes me. What do you think of the name Nagini, dear?" Riddle's voice floated over towards him. The snake hissed excitedly, making the staff of the shop cringe back in fear as it reared up, snapping its jaws. "Great. I'm sure we'll get along marvelously..."

"Sir, a-are you sure about that snake? She is one of the most dangerous snakes in existence..."

"She likes me. See? She hasn't eaten me yet. Plus, I think I can handle her if I've handled a basilisk before," Riddle said with a chuckle as the snake snapped at the shop owner. "Now, can I have her?"

"Yes yes! Free of charge! You can have her!" the shop owner squeaked as the snake got closer and bared its fangs. Riddle smiled sweetly and whipped out his wand and Abraxas was suddenly grateful that he was in a relatively dark and unseen corner of the shop, but he wished that there were more people in here.

"_Obliviate!_"

The two adults became dazed as the memory altering spell hit them and Riddle sighed before walking towards the entrance. Abraxas held his breath, freezing in place and hoping that Riddle wouldn't notice him. However, luck was not on his side. Riddle paused at the door. "Bad Faith," he addressed the Malfoy heir, making Abraxas tense up, "I hope that I won't have to Obliviate you, too." His snake - Nagini - stared at him and flickered its tongue out, hissing something at her master. "No, Nagini. You may not eat him." And then, Riddle shrunk her, hid her, and left.

Abraxas unfroze as the shop owner and staff suddenly came to their senses, realizing he was there, and started fussing over him.

Could Riddle really... talk to snakes?

* * *

Harry sighed as he boarded the bus that would take him back to the orphanage. This - all that had happened - was highly confusing. Meeting Nagini was a stroke of luck and he was glad to have something that was part of his previous life, even if that something was the pet of his former archenemy. Then again, he himself was now said archenemy. Being a Dark Lord-to-be was highly irritating and tiring.

And just when he thought he had found a way to kill himself, he gets reincarnated. And, ironically, reincarnated as his former archenemy who was obsessed with finding a way to be immortal. Oh well, he had long accepted the fact that he was technically immortal and that everyone else would die some time or later.

He had always wanted a normal life, but it seemed that Fate was determined to not give him the joy of having a normal life. He himself, it seemed, was also determined on getting some action. It just didn't feel right for him to have a normal life any more. In fact, the very thought unnerved him.

If he was immortal, well, he might as well have some fun, right? So, being a Dark Lord was something new and entertaining, wasn't it?

Looking up at his stop, Harry quickly got off the bus and walked back to the orphanage, his hand clenched around his shrunken trunk and supplies.

He just hoped that he was mentally prepared to be a Dark Lord.


	2. Chapter 2

_**AN: For my and your convenience... Here's a list of the more important students and their ages, birth dates and blood status.**_

_**Current Date 1938 September 1**_

**_Canon Characters: (Birth Dates are not Confirmed, most Years Confirmed)_**

**_Tom Riddle - Age Eleven (1926 December 31) First Year - HB_  
**

**_Wulburga Black - Age Thirteen (1925 May 4) Third Year - PB_  
**

**_Orion Black - Age Ten (1929 September 13) Pre-Hogwarts - PB_**

**_Dorea Black - Age Seventeen (1920 November 8) Seventh Year - PB_  
**

_**Alphard Black - Age Eleven (1927 January 9) First Year - PB**_

_**Lucretia Black - Age Twelve (1925 October 23) Second Year - PB**_

**_Abraxas Malfoy - Age Eleven (1927 February 24) First Year - PB_  
**

**_Charlus Potter - Age Seventeen (1920 September 22) Seventh Year - PB_  
**

**_Septimus Weasley - Age Seventeen (1921 January 12) Seventh Year - PB_**

_**Ignatius Prewett - Age Fourteen (1924 March 18) Fourth Year - PB**_

_**Antonin Dolohov - Age Twelve (1926 June 26) Second Year - HB**_

_**Igor Karkaroff - Age Nine (1929 March 30) Pre-Hogwarts - HB**_

_**Algie Longbottom - Age Sixteen (1922 August 16) Sixth Year - PB**_

_**Eileen Prince - Age Eleven (1927 November 17) First Year - PB**_

_**Lyall Lupin - Age Thirteen (1924 October 10) Third Year - HB**_

_**Myrtle Portland - Age Nine (1929 April 18) Pre-Hogwarts - MB**_

_**Olive Hornby - Age Ten (1928 August 31) Pre-Hogwarts - HB**_

_**Fenrir Greyback - Age Seven (1931 May 21) Pre-Hogwarts - HB**_

_**Original Characters:**_

_**Nero Jugson - Age Fifteen (1924 November 25) Fifth Year - PB**_

_**Nathaniel Parkinson - Age Thirteen (1925 April 2) Third Year - PB**_

_**Cassius Lestrange - Age Eleven (1927 January 8) First Year - PB**_

_**Eleanor Selwyn - Age Nineteen (1920 September 16) Post-Hogwarts - PB**_

_**Glenwood Selwyn - Age Fifteen (1923 February 10) Fifth Year - PB**_

_**Nara Nott - Age Sixteen (1921 September 27) Sixth Year - PB**_

_**Romulus Nott - Age Eleven (1927 June 17) First Year - PB**_

_**Settia Umbridge - Age Eleven (1927 July 1) First Year - PB**_

_**William Pettigrew - Age Twelve (1926 June 30) Second Year - HB**_

_**Lupa Rookwood - Age Eleven (1927 March 12) First Year - PB**_

_**Silas Rookwood - Age Fourteen (1924 May 11) Fourth Year - PB**_

_**Lycoris Rowle - Age Nine (1930 October 14) Pre-Hogwarts - PB**_

_**Celandine Brown - Age Thirteen (1925 February 3) Third Year - PB**_

_**Polaris Yaxley - Age Fourteen (1924 June 20) Fourth Year - PB**_

_**Samuel Greengrass - Age Thirteen (1925 May 31) Third Year - PB**_

_**Pericles Avery - Age Twelve (1925 November 7) Second Year - PB**_

_**Katherine Turner - Age Eleven (1927 March 28) First Year - MB**_

_**Luke Thompson - Age Eleven (1927 August 13) First Year - MB**_

_**Valerius Bulstrode - Age Sixteen (1922 July 16) Sixth Year - PB**_

_**Caesar Carrow - Age Seventeen (1922 February 25) Seventh Year - PB**_

_**Thane Rosier - Age Eleven (1927 April 10) First Year - PB**_

_**Aftonio Mulciber - Age Eleven (1926 September 20) - PB**_

* * *

Harry watched the fabric of his robes ripple as he smoothed his hand down them, pausing at the bump that was Nagini sleeping and wrapped tightly around his waist.

The robes had cost quite a lot and he was lucky that he had spent so much time in the Chamber of Secrets previously. Enough time to find the instructions on how to access the Slytherin vault. That was the only reason he was able to afford the robes. While the price had barely put a dent in his fortune of this life, he had less in the Slytherin family vault than he did in the Potter one in his previous life. Quite a significant amount less, in fact. Really, he wouldn't even have bothered with the high class robes if he didn't have to, but considering who he was and what he was going to do in this life, he needed them, if only to flaunt his wealth and lineage.

His gait was smooth, confident and graceful as he walked across the Platform from the apparation area. Tom was naturally graceful, the elegance ingrained in the very nature of his body. And Harry was rather glad for that. He didn't think he could pull off such a walk with his old body.

He ignored the stares and turned heads that followed him as he walked, knowing that the aura he had built around him would command attention and respect despite his small stature. While he usually hated attention and learned how to not draw attention to himself, this time he would need to draw attention to himself. Even as he kept his eyes straight ahead, he could see the people turning to look at him with awe, jealousy, admiration and lust, from women and men alike.

His face was a mask of indifference with the slightest bits of interest and curiosity as he regarded the red stream engine he was approaching. In reality though, he was thrumming with anticipation, his mind a mess from the nostalgia and longing and pain that came with seeing the Hogwarts Express. And even though these emotions were dulled and distant, he still took a moment to organize his thoughts before stepping onto the train.

Quickly finding an empty compartment, Harry settled himself inside, next to the window. He took out a book as he got comfortable, slinging one leg over the other, resting his elbow against the windowsill as he propped up his chin with the palm of his hand. He took out a shrunk book inside his pocket and, with a wandless, wordless spell, unshrunk it and began to read.

Or, at least, he pretended to begin to read. His long lashes hid his careful examination of the people on the platform as he watched more and more people was rather glad that arrived early, actually. Then he wouldn't be among the suffocating crowd of people. The people he didn't truly belong with. He wouldn't feel more alone than he already did.

Harry knew that he wasn't a part of their lovely group and knew he would never be. He had always been different. He had never belonged. He wasn't the same as those that had tearful farewells and hugged their families goodbye. He wasn't the same as the high classed children that exchanged dignified adieus with their parents, promising to write in that nonchalant way that hid so many emotions. He wasn't like the boisterous kids that happily laughed as they went off with their friends, glad to get away from their parents. He wasn't even like the wide eyed orphans and muggleborns, that were too filled with awe to be nervous, already separated from their families.

He hid a grimace at the thought. But, however unpleasant it was, it was true.

In his first life, even after he joined the magic world, he was different. He was signaled out by Voldemort and later became the Master of Death. And wasn't that a horrible thing to be. He thought that he could, at least, die a normal death like everyone else, but no. He was Harry bloody Potter and he wasn't anything if not abnormal.

Harry banished the thoughts behind a mental wall and continued people watching, or, more specifically, he continued to search for possible allies. He could the dear Malfoy heir with his parents. The boy was staring at him, apparently having seen him walk through before. He was exchanging farewells with his parents and all three were glancing at him. They weren't too far away from him, but far enough so that only the people nearest to them could see where they were glancing at. They were standing with some others who looked like... Blacks.

Harry almost gave himself away, unprepared for the wave of emotion that hit him. There was... One boy that looked awfully like Sirius. It was Sirius, just much, much younger. The boy looked around ten, but not old enough to be going to Hogwarts just yet. Orion Black. And beside him stood Walburga Black in all her young glory. She was really pretty and Harry wondered what turned her into the vulture she had been in Grimmuald Place.

He looked up fully and made eye contact with the Malfoy heir. He stiffened, eyes betraying his apprehension and Harry knew that the boy had snitched. He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head up, a slight sneer of disdain on his face. The Malfoy tensed further. Harry appraised him further before dismissing him as unimportant. His eyes travelled over each Black purposefully before moving to the rest of the platform.

Then he returned his eyes to his book, actually reading this time, as he turned a page of _Secret of the Bloodline Traits_, but staying well aware of his surroundings, too. It was carefully disguised as a Transfiguration textbook, detailing subjects that should be well above his understanding.

* * *

Abraxas was feeling a lot of emotions in that one moment. Annoyance was the most prominent though, anxiety a close second, partially from being dismissed so easily by Riddle and partially because no one believed him when he told them about a parselmouth. Even now, his friend, Alphard Black, was still sniggering.

"You really are an idiot, 'Braxas. A parselmouth? It isn't possible. Think, 'Brax. When's the last time someone with that trait appeared before? Not in a century."

"Alphard, maintain some decorum!" Walburga scolded from next to her parents, making her brother roll his eyes. "Anyways, I wouldn't dismiss the possibility so easily, dear brother. Who knows? Plus," she made a pair of gooey eyes at the sky. "He was handsome and so great looking... He's probably the perfect pureblood heir..."

Orion, Abraxas and Alphard all made a face at that, though Lucretia and Dorea giggled slightly. "Yes, he sure was graceful, like a veela," Lucretia added, "He walked so confidently and had that aura if power around him."

"If only I were a bit younger and not in love with dear Charlus I would go after him, definitely," Lucretia commented.

"And if he really was a parselmouth, that would just make it all the better..." Walburga continued. "He was so dreamy... Did you see him look out of the window at us with that cool, calculated gaze?" The three girls giggled. "Although..." Walburga raised an eyebrow at Abraxas, "what did you do? He looked at you as if you were scum."

"I think he didn't want me telling anyone that he was a parselmouth."

Orion suddenly frowned, remembering something. "Wait a moment. Didn't you say his name was Riddle?"

A sudden sneer came across Walburga's face. "A _mudblood_? Urg. Never mind what I just said. That's disgusting. You must be an idiot to think that... That... _Thing_ could speak to snakes!"

Lucretia frowned. "And you say he talked down to you?"

"We should teach that mudblood a lesson about respecting his betters."

Abraxas suddenly felt a lot more secure. He had people to back him up, and Riddle? He had no one. Despite Riddle's display of magical prowess before, there was no way he could hold up to their pure blood circle of people.

"Children," Irma Black spoke up from the 'Adult Group'. "It's time to get on the train. Wait any longer and it'll leave without you."

There was a chorus of "Bye, mother,"s and "Bye, father,"s before children walked off as a group to board the train, Orion the only one left behind, pouting.

* * *

By the time the train had left the station, Abraxas was in his own little cliche with children his own age. Meaning, a group of second and first years which included Abraxas, Alphard Black, Cassius Lestrange, Aftonio Rosier, Rylan Mulciber, Romulus Nott, Antonin Dolohov, and Pericles Avery. The talk about Riddle had also spread among them and none of them were even close to feeling any positive feeling towards the young boy. In fact, they had come up with schemes to torment him.

Abraxas had left their compartment with Cassius, Pericles and Alphard to see if they could find another empty compartment. Having just one was a bit too much of a tight fit. While walking through the Slytherin section of the train, Abraxas caught sight of a very familiar head of black curls.

Riddle was there, lounging alone in his compartment and reading an advanced transfiguration book. He didn't notice he had paused until Alphard spoke. "'Braxas, what did you see?" The other four approached and looked into the compartment window."Now, how did we miss this? Riddle sitting there with a compartment all to himself."

Abraxas suddenly had a very bad feeling and something told him that the only reason he had noticed the compartment while the others had missed it was because of Riddle. He banished the thought as soon as it formed. That was impossible.

"So that's Riddle?" Cassius asked, "I have to say he honestly does look like a pureblood. With a pretty face, too."

"So... Are we going in and kicking him out or what? He can't have that compartment all to himself," Pericles interrupted.

"Right," Abraxas agreed, steeling himself. He would get Riddle back for humiliating him.

Stepping forwards, he threw the door open and sneered. Riddle looked up, eyes traveling over the four intruders, before putting down his book and smirking lazily. "Why, Hello there, Bad Faith. I was wondering when you'd come over and you even, unexpectedly, brought friends. I am flattered indeed."

Abraxas scowled at what he had been called. Cassius stepped forwards, sneering. "Shut it mudblood. We shou-"

"'We should really teach you a lesson about how to speak to your betters' was what you were going to say, right?" Riddle interrupted, an eyebrow raised.

Cassius blinked in shock, flinching back. "How-?"

"- did I know what you were going to say?" Riddle interrupted once more, examining his nails in a bored manner. "You all really are very predictable, especially to someone like me that has Intuitive Aptitude." Abraxas frowned in confusion and an exasperated sigh came from the only seated member of the compartment. "Intuitive Aptitude is a blood trait that allows the user to easily gain an understanding of something complex without further study or education. It usually only appears in the descendents of Rowena Ravenclaw, but I'm a special case," the boy explained. "Of course, the ability itself is so broad that it's impossible for a single person to possess the full potential of it lest their brain is overloaded by information and they become a vegetable."

For a while, the four purebloods were struck speechless. None of them had heard of anything like that before.

"Th-that's bullshit," Pericles eventually stuttered out.

Riddle raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" He lifted his book up and the cover rippled, morphing from _Advanced Transfiguration_ to an old, battered book called _Secret of the Bloodline Traits_. "The only reason most people don't know about Bloodline Traits is because most Bloodline Traits are unnoticeable, most are sub-sections of the Intuitive Aptitude abilities and most are very, very weak. The only Bloodline Trait that is well know is Parseltongue. If Slytherin had one, then it would make sense that the other founders had their own, no?" Riddle asked rhetorically. "I thought you were all purebloods, but, look here; you were beaten by this so called mudblood when it came to knowledge about your own abilities and culture."

If they hadn't been struck speechless at the display of wandless magic, Abraxas was certain that this explanation would have done it. He was already beginning to regret coming in here and confronting Riddle. It seemed that he would be safer on Riddle's side of the playing board instead of his own side. Despite being faced with four trained and hostile wizards, Riddle seemed utterly relaxed and confident that he could handle anything thrown his way. And, if that display of wandless magic was any indication, he could. Beside him, he saw Cassius narrow his eyes, a calculating look in them and Abraxas knew that they had come to the same conclusion: Riddle was not one to be trifled with.

Unfortunately for Pericles (Alphard was always too laid back and accepting for showing violence or superiority to others), he wasn't so smart. Growling in outrage, the boy drew his wand and shot out a _Bombarda_. What was he thinking? A spell like that in a place like this? But with a wave of Riddle's hand, a shield materialized and absorbed the destructive attack. Pericles was stunned and Alphard let out a choked laugh of shock. The other two had already though that something this might happen and didn't react except for the slight widening of eyes.

"Is that all you got? That's pathetic..." And before they knew what was happening, Pericles was throw from the compartment by an invisible hand, crumpling in an unconscious heap in the hallway. The three remaining looked back at the relaxed and utterly unfazed boy in disbelief. They hadn't even seen him move. "Anyways, is there anything else you wanted? No? Well then, get out. I want a word with Bad Faith. Alone preferably." And with that, the same invisible force shoved Alphard and Cassius outside and slammed the door shut, pulling down the blinds.

Abraxas swallowed nervously as Riddle's gaze focused on him and he tensed unconsciously. He didn't understand how this one mudblood could be so powerful... But wait. What if he wasn't a mudblood? There was evidence contrary after all. Didn't he have a conversation with that snake, Nagini? What if... What if this boy really was the descendent of Salazar Slytherin? That would make sense as to why he was so powerful...

"You know," Abraxas was jolted back into the present by the melodic voice of the Slytherin descendent. "I was going teach you a lesson about not snitching..." Abraxas tensed further. "But... You've just brought me some amusement. So, instead, I'll reward you." Apprehensive, Abraxas looked into the dark eyes of the other boy and only barely caught the book that was thrown towards him. "Careful," Riddle cautioned, sounding amused, "I took that book from Salazar's personal vault. It's very, very rare and probably one of the last copies that still exists. You may borrow it, but don't damage it, lose it or give it to anyone else." Abraxas looked at the cover and saw that it was the very book Riddle had just been reading. The cover rippled to become _Advanced Transfiguration_ again, but the contents of the book stayed the same. "I will know... I expect you to return it in the same condition I gave it to you or else... Well, let's just say that Nagini gets hungry... A lot."

The Malfoy heir wasn't sure what to feel at that moment. He had just escaped what seemed to be a horrible fate and was instead given a book so rare it was virtually unheard of. He could detect no lie coming from Riddle. So, if what the other said was true, Riddle was the heir of Slytherin and the book the young Malfoy currently held in his hands came from Salazar Slytherin's _personal_ vault. Not family vault, _personal_ vault. He was feeling giddy and fearful all at once because, truth to be told, he was fucking terrified of what the other could do to him. But... Abraxas closed his eyes slightly as he felt for the magic crackling in the air, the magic that had poured out of the young boy in front of him as soon as they were alone.

It was so powerful, so oppressing, that Abraxas felt like groveling at the boy's feet. He felt a sudden high at being singled out by the boy's magic. It was _him_ in Riddle's presence and not anyone else. Riddle was a... He would become a... Dark Lord. Yes, Abraxas could feel it as clear as day and he would prove that his name didn't define him by becoming Riddle's most faithful.

"Do you understand, _Abraxas_?" The voice asked softly. And, almost unconsciously, Abraxas gave his reply.

"_Yes, My Lord..._"

* * *

If Harry had to be honest, it completely unnerved him when the Malfoy heir had replied to his question. The boy's eyes became unfocused and hazy as if experiencing extreme pleasure and he had shuddered before answering with utmost devotion, fear, respect and admiration in his voice. Harry had know that his magic had some sort of effect on other people, but he never realized how strong the effects would've been at full power. The children at the orphanage had been affected at a much lesser degree, able to sense the power around him. But, while the elder ones cowered or grew jealous, the younger ones could do nothing but look up to him.

He had long become desensitized to the guilt he would feel at his actions. After fighting so many wars, killing so many people, you began to understand on a subconscious level that there were no real rules in the world of the living and that the rules people made couldn't truly be enforced. It was, in realality, a dog eat dog world and no matter how good he might be, he would have to break the fragile rules in order to protect who he wanted to.

He shuddered again. If Voldemort could relish in looks like that, then the Dark Lord really was crazy or maybe just very, very narcissistic.

Anyhow, he guessed that he had better get used to it if he were really going to go through with this whole thing. The becoming a Dark Lord plan was actually working wuite well. He already had his first follower.


End file.
